AI has it’s place in today’s world,

We now know though that place does NOT include the world of Hashing. I have not decided whether co-hare Dung-Fu Grip became cognizant of that fact prior to accepting Bing’s suggestion for trail and was simply too damn lazy to rectify the issue or that he thought it looked like a decent trail on the screen and simply ran with it. Whatever fit of temporary insanity afflicted him, it was the pack that ultimately paid the price for his slothfulness. Details to follow.

The assembly process started at long time favorite Parish Publick House on Almar Avenue. The pack was slow to assemble possibly showing our reluctance to place our fate in the electric hands of Bing and Dung-Fu Grip. The gang did eventually gel though. Absurdly long past our traditional 6:33 hare-out time, Dung-Fu read an electronic missive from co-hare Bing. It was cutesy. It did not, however, shed much light on what awaited us on it’s trail. I hope this does not mean this chatbot was been engendered with deviousness and cruelty. Hare(s) out.

The next 15 was the usual settling of bar tabs and completely ignoring what fate may befall us on a trail concocted by an entity that harbors no respect for human life nor is aware of how truly fragile we are. Or one aware of our current level of intoxication. Soon enough though, co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain corralled the clan into Circleup for Introductions and heard from the following: Cum You Will Not, TIMMY!!, Flours For Anal Bum, Hugh Heifer, Steamy Baanorrhea, dBASED, Virgin Casey, Virgin Jackson, Virgin Jordan, International House of Pussy, Pink Cherry Licker, Hareless, Dirty Bean, Occasional Rapist and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. On the canine side of the ledger we were graced by Junk Puncher, Bronson, Spot’d Dick and Scratch and Sniff. Pack away.

A hare arrow right at the start took the troops north on Almar and on-left at Mission Street and then across Mission at Miramar. Here was the promised Turkey/Eagle split. Let’s Eagle it tonight. Eagles went on-left and this carried the clan to Grandview Street where a solved check took us on-right and then on-right onto the locals-only footpath leading into Arroyo Seco. However, just as we got to the good stuff, Bing led us on-right and curved to Escalona Drive. This began a long stretch of macadam. Not to mention boring. The only saving grace along this dreary stretch was some of us were graced with the presence of Mrs. TIMMY!! She guarded Liquor Check which, believe it or not, had been placed here by Bing and not it’s homo sapien companion. Creepy to say the least.

After completing our task here, we continued traipsing along the dreariness that is Escalona well past Bay Avenue and all the way to Rigg Street where an on-right arrow pointed the pod to the edge of California Highway 1, colloquially called Mission Street in these here parts. Human hare Dung-Fu Grip(at least I ASSUME it was he) placed the DGK warning on the sidewalk. I’d find that laughable if it wasn’t so insulting. Who the hell needs to be told running across a four lane highway in the darkness of night without benefit of a pedestrian signal is going to be life threatening?!? Mercifully, the herd was not culled this night, everyone made it safely to the far side and continued along Rigg until an arrow turned the troops on-right on California Street. Thus began another boring stretch of street that was not ceased until California collides with Errett Circle. Here we were led on-right around the innermost circle of The Circles and then on-right onto Pendegast Avenue. Pendegast has a little half block stutter step at Surfside Avenue but does continue on. At the intersection with Seaside Avenue a hare arrow pointed directly into Garfield Park quickly followed by the BN mark soon to be followed by a horde of hashers coagulated around a picnic table sucking up beer.

The Walker contingency was the last to arrive and by that time Beermeister Flours For Anal Bum had dragged the beer trough into the park so everyone had multiple options available for their dining pleasure. Upon completing this enviable task, Pink Cherry Licker cranked up her Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs she issued this night: Flours For Anal Bum emailed the entire Club asking where Religion was going to be…immediately after reading the Trail Announcement; everyone that had the pleasure of spending time with Mrs. TIMMY(which did NOT include either her (current)husband nor her daughter); Dung-Fu Grip for admitting Liquor Check location was Bing’s idea and not his; Cum You Will Not celebrated her 300th hash with us; backsliders were punished; Circle Gherkin’ for reciting an AI generated poem to us. But yes, the hare(s), only one of which was able to suffer the slings and arrows he/it so richly deserved. The Hash’s foray into cyber-trail was mercifully brief and hopefully Dung-Fu has learned from this failure.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story. Do not allow the profound to be the enemy of the interesting.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-37.

By Special Permission of His Royal Majesty ‘G’, this Hash Trash has been compiled and printed by permission of no one other than the author at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, twenty-seventh day of March in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe